


i broke the world for us

by cuteandtwisted



Series: In Every Universe [22]
Category: SKAM (Norway), SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Even is very honest about everything, Fling AU, Isak is cold and busy, Lovers to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slow Build, Unrequited Love, but like not really, kind of, some internalized homophobia, workaholic Isak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 15:08:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17347460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuteandtwisted/pseuds/cuteandtwisted
Summary: “Why are you here right now?""You know why."Even craves earth-shattering romance, while Isak is too busy for anything more than a fling.They're not compatible. They couldn't be any more different. But the cold and loneliness of the holidays leave them seeking heat in other's arms.Even might be in love. Isak certainly isn't. Or is he?Or Isak is 'heartless', young, busy, addicted to work, and incapable of committing. And Even is a repairman who fixes things around the office, who sees right through his smokescreen, and who might end up 'fixing' Isak's cold heart.





	i broke the world for us

**Author's Note:**

> happy new yeaaar <3 
> 
> Even said 2 and 4, and Isak said INFINITE, not 21. so I'm breaking my 21 verses rule. 
> 
> I've had this in my drafts for nearly a month now. didn't feel confident posting it. but i miss them so here you go.
> 
> <3

**Three**

Isak is on his third drink.

_ Three. Even hates the number three. _

Isak shakes the thought away. He can’t even have three drinks without thinking of him now.

The door swings open, giving way to the chill of a ruthless December night. And Isak turns around hastily to  _ look,  _ to check if it’s  _ him,  _ just in case it’s  _ him. _ His breath has gone short in the matter of seconds, and his eyes are wide and full of senseless hope he didn’t bear just a minute ago. Isak understands the door thing now, and his heart feels so sore that it rattles inside of him when he realizes that  _ no,  _ it isn’t him. 

He’s not here yet.  _ Is he even coming tonight? _

Isak turns back around and smiles at whoever was addressing him across the table. It’s Trygve from Marketing. Marketing which operates out of the third floor. 

Third floor.  _ Three. Even hates the number three.  _

_ Dammit.  _

Isak downs his drink to get to his fourth and stop thinking about how much Even hates the number three. He moves to another table with the same empty smile no one sees through, to another conversation with no participants from the Marketing department or any department that operates out of the _ third _ floor.  _ Number three.  _

Isak hates it too, now. 

The door of the restaurant hosting his company’s holiday party swings open again, and Isak follows the movement with that same pathetic gaze, that same gasp leaving his mouth, that same disappointed sigh when he realizes it’s not  _ him.  _

He looks away then moves on to another meaningless conversation.

But he doesn’t. Not really. He’s smiling and nodding and interjecting randomly with “oh, really?”, “no way”, “that’s crazy!”, but he’s mentally checked out. He’s checked out because he’s looking at the door. Because he’s waiting. 

It’s almost Christmas and Isak is waiting for a miracle, for the ceiling to crumble, for the floor beneath his feet to fall apart, for a fire to start in the unsuspecting kitchen, for a pipe to leak between the walls, for something to break so that he can see him again. 

Isak is waiting for the world to break again so that  _ Even  _ can come and fix it.

Isak squeezes the stupid box in the pocket of his blazer. He squeezes it and tries to decide where he’ll dispose of it on his way home. 

Isak is about to leave the restaurant and miss dinner altogether when Even finally walks in like the sun breaking up a storm. 

Even walks in and everything in Isak crumbles. 

* * *

 

**One.**

The day Even enters Isak’s life, the ceiling crumbles.

No, really. 

But perhaps the implied causality is misleading: the ceiling crumbles first; Even appears second. 

An undetected water leak on the floor above the one where Isak spends most of his days staring at his work computer screen—and resisting the urge to rub his eyes with his knuckles like a child—causes the tiles on top of his desk to store moisture, and ultimately fall right on his keyboard.

Isak isn’t even there when the ceiling falls apart, the incident having taken place right before he made it to his cubicle that particular morning. But it doesn’t stop him from uploading the mess to his Instagram story and turning it into the highlight of the week. 

Ironically, it makes that boring Tuesday morning less morose, less draining. Co-workers he hasn’t spoken to in weeks stop by his desk to nervously inquire about his “near-death experience” and Isak repeats the same puns and flat jokes to anyone taking the time to listen.  _ ‘Love this job so much, I’m risking my life for it. My bonus better be worth it this year, huh.’  _

Some chuckle and others don’t. But he doesn’t really mind. It’s all very muted and distant in his head anyway. Humor and “clowning” are second nature to him, a “coping mechanism” as Eskild used to say. And although Isak would argue the opposite, it’s allegedly never goofy. He apparently still manages to ooze charisma while performing his “clowning”. He cracks jokes, but he doesn’t look like one—though he feels it. Some even say that his sense of humor makes him attractive. 

_ “Funny guy that Valtersen guy. I’m telling you. He even managed to get that old hag Anna to crack a smile in a meeting. She never smiles! Very promising young guy. How old is he again?” _

_ “Twenty-four or something? He just graduated. He must have women throwing themselves at him. They like them funny guys.” _

Isak overhears the buffoonery at an after-work drinking event and laughs to himself. He’s not interested in women and he never will be, his days trying to force himself into swinging that way having ended late in high school. But people at work don’t need to know that. 

Isak is what some would call “out and proud”, but he never felt the need to announce his sexuality to his co-workers when he started his job as a financial analyst at a prestige firm in Oslo. He leaves his personal life at the door before making it to his desk every morning, and he actually prides himself in having his life together. Unlike most of his friends, he hasn’t gotten caught up in any office drama.

Besides, Isak didn’t want his sexuality to be forever branded on his forehead. He didn’t want to be the “gay guy at the office”. He wanted to be more than that. He didn’t want what he liked to do in bed to restrain and limit him in his professional life. 

Eskild calls it ‘internalized homophobia’. Isak calls it being smart and practical. 

_ “Isak, are you listening to yourself? I thought you got over the shame phase.” _

_ “I’m not ashamed! I don’t pretend to be straight. I’m just myself. Nobody asks, so why would I go around telling them I’m gay just because they can’t tell?! I’m sorry I don’t feel like wear tights and mascara to work!” _

_ “You really like this idea of being an exception, huh? You’re such a well-behaved gay, Isak. So straight-passing and never flamboyant. You’re so special, Isak. You’re making us look so good, us gays. Thank you so much!” _

_ “Oh, fucking grow up, Eskild. When are you gonna get over this rainbow capitalistic bullshit? You’re never gonna leave your job at fucking ZARA if you keep revolving your life around what your dick gets off to. Grow up and get a real job!”  _

That was kind of the end of that. Isak still winces thinking about their drunken conversation. He had expected Eskild to forgive him after a week or so since he never holds grudges, but that never happened. Linn said that it was probably the last straw for Eskild, something about “microaggressions”.  

Isak never explicitly asked for forgiveness either. He just left Kollektivet when the year rolled around and moved into a one-bedroom apartment near work once the lease was up. He can afford it now. He was just sparing Eskild’s feelings, really. So this brawl was convenient. 

Except it wasn’t. At least not right now. It’s almost Christmas and Isak doesn’t have anyone to spend it with. At least Eskild kept him company on Christmas day after getting back from his racist aunt’s house.

Isak’s chest tightens thinking about it, spending Christmas completely alone, Eskild cutting him off, everyone thinking he’s changed, Jonas and Eva becoming that boring couple that spends holidays at each other’s families. Isak’s chest tightens thinking about spending Christmas Eve watching Netflix. It makes concentrating on work a bit hard, breathing a bit straining. But then the bald guy from the third floor, Geir, stops by to inquire about his “near-death experience” and Isak is able to focus on being a standup comedian for a minute.

Geir doesn’t really get his jokes and it’s okay. Isak doesn’t even have to think about the bad one-liners. They just roll off his tongue on their own. So he doesn’t dwell on it when a person with more than two brain cells is particularly unresponsive to his poor attempts at comedy. 

Isak realizes mid-clowning that Geir and the rest of his coworkers would have preferred for him to have actually gotten hurt, and he doesn’t blame them. That would certainly make for more interesting office chatter.

“I could use some time off. I should take a month to recover from the PTSD.”

The distasteful PTSD joke gets Geir to laugh, at last, and Isak begins to wonder why he’s still here, still running the same boring Excel models and pretending to care about the numbers it spits out at him at the end of each day. 

“You’re really funny, Isak. I should stop by more often.”

_ Please don’t. _

Isak is so bored by the time the office starts to clear in the evening that he begins to wish he had left home a bit earlier that morning to make it right on time for the ceiling to fall on his head. He should probably quit. Wishing to get hurt on the job is probably a sign that he needs to leave.

His side of the floor is completely empty when a deep voice startles him mid-sigh. 

“May I cum inside?” 

_ What?  _

“Excuse me?!” Isak turns around, confused and puzzled and mildly disturbed, and is rendered momentarily speechless when faced with a tall and handsome blue-eyed young man in navy blue overalls. 

He’s wearing a beanie and gloves, and carrying gear and a three-step ladder. His presence is somewhat overwhelming. He seems both confident and unsure, an ambivalence that’s always appealed to Isak, his brain and body always deciding on a guy’s potential within a second of meeting them or, in most cases, seeing their Grindr profile.  __

“I’m here to stuff the hole,” the young man says with an innocent smile, and this time it makes Isak’s face flush deeply. He’s speechless. He has to pinch his arm underneath his desk to make sure he’s not in one of his sick twisted dreams. 

“I, uh,” Isak blinks at him, his pulse quickening under his fingertips. This is not a dream. Some gorgeous young man is here to “stuff the hole” after the office cleared out. Isak is in a parallel universe. 

“Oh,” the man gasps as though he’s just peered into Isak’s thoughts. “Forgive me. I, uh, I meant, may I come inside your cubicle? I’m here for the hole in the ceiling? I’m on call today. I’m here to fix the ceiling after it collapsed on your desk?”

He gestures to the actual broken tile in the ceiling and Isak feels himself crumble inside at his very transparent reaction. His body is probably on its way to a boner. 

“Oh shit! Yeah, the ceiling! Of course. Yeah, you can come in. My hole is all yours,” Isak stammers like a teenager before bringing his hand to his mouth again. “Fuck. I meant the hole in the ceiling above my cubicle. That’s the one you can stuff. Not like. I mean. Fuck! Christ-”

The young man laughs, and it’s a beautiful and full laugh that echoes through Isak somehow, the kind that makes one’s insides settle and panic subdue. The man laughs once and Isak feels comforted enough to stop his embarrassing nervous blabber. 

“That was really embarrassing,” Isak chuckles in his seat, bringing one hand to the back of his neck and rubbing the skin there. “I promise you I’m more eloquent than this.”

“I’ve gotten worse. Don’t worry,” the stranger replies as he sets his tools on the floor. 

“Yeah? More people have their mind in the gutter around here? I kinda feel comforted.” 

“Well, in your defense, I could have opened with something other than “I’m here to stuff your hole.”

“You could have, couldn’t you?” Isak retorts, then he realizes that he’s flirting and that he should probably stop. 

“Figured you could use the comedy relief after a traumatic near-death experience.”

“You fix ceilings  _ and  _ look after people’s psychological well-being? I hope they pay you well,” Isak adds, his voice bright and loud. He’s flirting and he can’t even be bothered. 

“Well, I hope they pay you more,” says Isak’s favorite handyman with another laugh. “You clearly love this job enough to risk your life for it.”

Isak pauses despite having a witty reply lined up at the tip of his tongue. He’s a bit taken aback. 

“We have the same shitty sense of humor,” he concludes with a laugh. 

“Sorry to disappoint, Valtersen, but I’ve just been listening to you repeat the same joke to everyone stopping by your desk today.” 

Isak blinks at him. Who is this guy? “You stalked me?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” the young man chuckles. “Your cubicle says your last name and I’ve been in and out of your floor all day with my team trying to assess the damage of the water leak on the floor above.”

Isak blinks, his face heating up again. He hasn’t blushed this much since Nissen probably. 

“I can’t believe I’ve managed to embarrass myself twice in the matter of minutes,” Isak sighs dramatically. “Also, it’s Isak.” 

“Hm?” 

“My first name. It’s Isak. It’s not on my cubicle.”

“Even,” Even says with a genuine warm smile as he takes off his right glove and extends his right arm.

They shake hands, with Even standing tall and Isak looking up from his chair. He smiles. Even smiles back, his thumb lingering over Isak’s knuckles. Neither of them lets go.

_ ‘And this is insane, right? Nobody meets like this? Who meets like this?’  _ Isak will type later in Eskild’s chat window before deleting it. 

“Solid grip,” Even chuckles, and his eyes disappear behind his eyelids, crinkling at the corners. Isak is entranced. 

“Are you gonna stuff the hole today, or?” 

.

Geir from the third floor has the wonderful idea of paying Isak another visit, something about how disappointed he was in his Secret Santa gift. And Isak has to force himself not to show how irritated he is right now, Geir’s intrusion having caused whatever bubble they had going on to burst, with Even immediately leaving Isak’s personal space and proceeding to fix the ceiling.

Isak remains agitated for a little while until he realizes that Geir’s interruption is probably a gift from the universe. It would have been a terrible mistake to continue down that path. What if Geir had found them in a compromising position? What is Isak even thinking flirting with the guy fixing the ceiling at the office? Is a quickie worth blowing his cover at work? No, it isn’t. 

Isak heads to the restroom after walking Geir to the elevator and making him laugh a bit longer.  And by the time he comes back, Even is gone. Isak is only disappointed for a second. No, really. He can find someone to hook-up with on Grindr later when he gets home. He can go to a bar and pick up anyone. It’s fine. 

Isak packs his bag and heads for the exit when Even calls his name in his deep and warm voice. He’s on the small ladder hanging under another fallen tile on the opposite side of the floor, and he’s beaming at Isak.  _ Beaming.  _

“Have a good night, Isak,” he says.

Isak pauses and taken him in. “Didn’t realize you had so many holes to stuff tonight,” he retorts, unable to help himself. “Quite the popular guy.”

“What can I say? Happy to offer my services to holes in need.”

They both burst into laughter like middle schoolers.

Isak feels seventeen again and he realizes that he wants him. He doesn’t want a random guy from the bar. He wants  _ this  _ random guy on the three-stepped ladder. He wants Even and he wants him bad.

“How many more holes are you gracing with your services tonight?”

.

They go to a bar nearby. Isak waits for Even in the lobby and they both run out of the building in thick coats with laughter and anticipation bubbling up in their chests. 

Isak isn’t quite sure what he expected, but it’s not comfortable chatter and pretentious film commentary on a cold snowy night in a half-empty bar. It’s not Even offering to buy the next round when Isak probably makes twice his salary. It’s not Even laughing at his terrible jokes with a full chest, hands clasped, back arched, and eyes brimmed with tears. 

It’s not what Isak expected. He thought they’d blow each other in the restrooms and call it a day. But no, Even likes to talk and Isak finds that he doesn’t really mind listening. At least not tonight. It will be Christmas in about three days and Isak won’t turn down a hot guy murmuring sweet nothings to him over beer before taking it to the sheets.

.

They don’t take it to the sheets. Even walks him home and throws a hand between them just as Isak is about to invite him upstairs. 

“I had fun stuffing your hole today,” he says like a middle-schooler testing his luck and repeating the same awful joke for the fifth consecutive day.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. Likewise, I guess,” Isak mumbles because he’s disappointed, flustered, and confused all at once.

“I hope I don’t have to see you again.”  

Isak blinks and Even huffs in realization. “I mean at work. On your floor! I hope the ceiling doesn’t fall apart again.”

“Oh. Yeah. Right.”

.

The next day, other tiles collapse all around the floor, and Isak keeps straining his neck checking the glass doors all the way from his seat for signs of Even.

_ Maybe he’s not on call today.  _

This is a good thing. Isak doesn’t need the distraction that comes with lusting after the hot repairman at the office. This is not a porno. Besides, he needs to finish these presentations before everyone leaves for the break. Isak can get someone else to blow him later when he goes home. He can probably message one of those clingy guys who keep texting him.

“Good thing Christmas is around the corner,” Even says when he greets Isak at his cubicle, making him nearly jump. “At least none of you will be here when this whole place collapses.” 

“Shit! You startled me!” Isak gasps, then laughs nervously. It’s almost nine in the evening and he’s tired from making powerpoint presentations all day. 

“I can see that,” Even chuckles. “How’s your neck?”

“What about my neck?”

“Does it hurt? You’ve been straining it for a while now looking towards the door every two seconds,” Even says with a smirk. “Who are you waiting for? Must be someone important.” 

_ What a dick. _

“You’ve been watching me,” Isak muses.

“You were in my line of vision,” Even shrugs. “I’ve been examining the tiles over Jan’s desk over there, you see.”

“Your line of vision,” Isak repeats with a chuckle.

“Not the worst sight to have in your line of vision. I’ll give you that.”

“But you must be disappointed. You sounded very serious last night when you said you hoped you wouldn’t have to see my face again.”

Isak expects Even to fire back instantly, to keep their banter going and keep him gasping for air a little longer. But he doesn’t. Even just... smiles. And for some reason, Isak is left gasping for air still. Even smiles like he knows what he’s about to say will leave Isak speechless.

“You and I both know that I wanted to see your face again.”

Isak considers the humor route. He considers turning this into a joke again and calling it a day. But he doesn’t want to. It’s Friday night. It’s almost Christmas. He can just go home. Who cares about deadlines right now? How can he care when Even is right here so late at night like he’s been waiting for everyone else to leave. When Even is right here, looking like that and looking at Isak like that. 

_ Live a little. _

“Do you always work this late?” Isak asks, his voice a little bit raspier, his head spinning with want.

“No,” Even replies, just as serious, just as tense. His eyes look great in this lighting. They look really great. Isak can picture them staring into his own in bed while he tears him apart. He can picture it perfectly. 

“Then why are you here right now?” 

“You know why,” Even says with a smile. He looks and sounds nervous, like he’s unsure. It’s so corny and perfect. Maybe life is a porno after all. 

“No, tell me,” Isak insists as he leaves his chair and stands to look Even in the eyes. They’re standing so close, Isak can feel Even’s breath on his face.

“Wanted to see you.”

“Why?”

“Because, uh. I just,” Even stammers, looking away like he can’t handle Isak’s gaze. It’s adorable. “God, you make me so nervous!” he chuckles nervously like he isn’t the hottest guy to ever grace his floor.

“I do?” Isak tilts his head, blinking and feigning innocence. He smiles and waits for Even to meet his eyes again. “Me?”

“Yeah, you’re… You’re like perfect.”

Isak presses Even against the file cabinet so hard and with so much force that it falls over with a loud thud. 

“Oh my god!” he shrieks.

Isak hides his face and groans into his hands, horrified and embarrassed at having ruined such a perfectly intense moment, while Even laughs and asks him to help pull the cabinet to an upright position.

And when they do, when the file cabinet from hell stands tall in the middle of the crumbling floor, Isak holds his breath as Even presses him softly against the wall, eyes locked into his own. Isak has never felt this nervous being touched by a man before. Perhaps it’s because he’s about to be kissed senseless next to his cubicle. 

“First kisses,” Even speaks low, so low, his breath is caressing Isak’s cheek, his hand squeezing his waist. “Should be kind.”

Even kisses him and it’s so intense Isak doesn’t remember or process any of it. All he knows is that he’s left panting against the wall with his lips buzzing and his tongue aching for more. 

It’s so ridiculous, he can’t quite fathom it. Their tongues flicking, their lips parting and taking and moving as if to quench the rawest of desires. They kiss with their entire bodies until a loud thud rings in the distance and they break apart in a fit of giggles. 

“The building is falling apart,” Isak laughs, his fingers threaded in Even’s hair, his arms around his neck.

“For us,” Even echoes. “The world is breaking for us.” 

“We should take this somewhere else then.”

.

Sex with Even is…  _ something.  _

It’s just... everything, but  _ more.  _

It’s like having sex with someone you’ve fantasized about for a while and finding out they’ve been fantasizing about you, too. It’s all ridiculous and silly, with laughter and teasing, but still hot and intense, with long periods of silence and just staring, so much staring. It oddly feels like consummation, like a fire burning bright between two people who’ve been aching to dance within the same flames.  

They knock the very few objects lying around Isak’s apartment down and laugh as they do it, like it hasn’t taken Isak months to finally start buying decor for the sake of having decor. He hears his small decorative Earth globe fall to the ground and break. Isak didn’t even know it was made out of glass. But who cares.  

Even backs Isak into his own windowsill and Isak lets him. He kisses him on the mouth for ridiculous periods of time like they’re lovers assuaged by lips, just lips and skin. And he laughs when Isak yelps at being kissed on the neck so  _ thoroughly.  _

“Sensitive, are we?” 

“Shut up.”

They move from the gray couch, to his marble desk, his coffee table, his dresser where he finally managed to unbutton Even’s overalls while squeezing him between his legs like he’s scared he might disappear, to his bed, finally his bed. 

“Ever undressed someone wearing overalls?” Even teases, his voice low and deep in Isak’s ear, kissing the skin right below it with his lips.  _ God, his lips. _ “My guess is no.”

“Please stop talking and undress me!” Isak whines then laughs when Even proceeds to unbutton his white shirt from the bottom up.

“Don’t laugh. Why are you laughing?” Even asks as he laughs himself.

“Who unbuttons a shirt from the bottom?”

Even looks him in the eyes, lips red and swollen and wet, so wet, and simply says, “I do.” 

Isak kisses him and they roll around in his bed, alternating laughter and moans and whimpers and synchronized screams of pleasure. 

.

“Do you always stare at the microwave while it’s heating your food?” Even asks. He’s only wearing briefs and he’s laying on Isak’s couch on his stomach, watching him. 

“Huh?” Isak blinks from where he stands in front of the microwave, both hands on his hips. He never realized he did that. 

“It’s cute,” Even says with an endeared smile, and Isak has to shake it off. He’s not cute. 

It hits him then, that Even has spent the night and that he’s still here, smiling and calling him cute. Isak doesn’t do morning afters. And he certainly doesn’t cook food, or in this case microwave leftovers, for his one-night stands. 

_ Oh.  _

Does Even know that this is a one-night stand? How does this even work? The guys Isak usually brings home always know that he’s not looking for anything serious and that he just wants some casual fun. But he’s never brought someone over like Even before. 

It all feels a bit ominous. This won’t end well. Isak needs to find a way to tell Even that he needs to leave without angering him or making things awkward at work. How is he going to do this? What if Even tells one of his coworkers? Is this even allowed? Is Even employed by his company or by the building they’re leasing? What if his manager finds out?  _ God, _ what was he even thinking?!

Isak’s mind is spiraling out of control when he feels big and soft hands on his face. Even has somehow left the couch and joined him in front of the microwave. His gaze is so kind, Isak can’t find an ounce of malice in this guy’s body. He’s one of the “good” ones, the ones that are “good” up until their egos get bruised. How is he going to ask him to leave?

“Hey,” Even nearly whispers. “Is everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah. It’s just-”

Even leans in and kisses him gently. Just lips and thumbs over his cheekbones. Isak sighs into it, doesn’t really resist it. Even is a good kisser, a phenomenal kisser, really. 

“Don’t freak out,” Even says when they pull apart, with Isak breathing hard and fast. “I can leave if you want. I can just go.”

Isak appreciates that Even has somehow read his jumbled thoughts and offered him a way out.

“It’s just that I have a lot of work to do,” Isak lies. “I’m sorry.”

.

Even leaves and Isak throws himself into work. Work has always helped him focus when his thoughts got too tangled up in his head, when life got in the way and trivial things started making functioning difficult. Isak doesn’t really love his job. He doesn’t even like it. But the predictability and routine that come with working with numbers and statistical models keep him focused. Some nights he regrets not following his passion for science. But that uncertainty would have eaten at him eventually. The fuzziness. 

Isak likes doing the same boring things every day and getting paid good money to do them. He also likes that at twenty-four, he already has a stable career and that he stands tall financially. 

He likes it. But he also dreads the loneliness that comes with it. He feels as though his friends who are a bit more lost in life and a bit more aimless, are actually less lonely, less alone. Isak envies that. He does. It’s true. Eskild might have worked in retail for years, but he constantly strives for something more, something bigger. He’s always chasing something while Isak feels like he’s constantly running away and buying things he doesn’t need to fill some sort of void inside of him. 

It’s like wishing for cold when it’s hot and for warmth when it’s freezing then realizing, when it’s finally a pleasant day, that the weather doesn’t actually matter. The emptiness never goes away. Having something to blame it on just makes it easier to bear.

The tightness gets to his chest again and Isak can’t work. He can’t think. He feels stuck. His thoughts are racing.

He lies down in his bed and realizes that he hasn’t left his apartment all day. It’s almost dinner time. His sheets still smell of Even. He was good. Wasn’t he? He was really good in bed. He was good outside of it, too. Isak almost wishes he’d said yes when Even suggested they shower together in the morning. 

He thinks back to how Even had him sweating and moaning for hours and to how wonderful it felt to not have to think about anything at all. Even was so overwhelming, it was nearly impossible to hold a thought that wasn’t  _ him  _ while he was filling him up. 

_ Shit.  _

Isak touches himself, tries to use those memories and the scent in his sheets to forget his racing thoughts for a moment. He tries and tries and tries.

Then his phone buzzes, and it’s a text from Even. Isak didn’t even know he had his number.

* * *

 

**_Even: looked you up in the employee phone directory. hope it’s ok. feeling better?_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Isak: cum over?_ **

* * *

 

Isak’s own bluntness leaves him mortified. He’s horny and desperate, but Even doesn’t know that. Isak doesn’t blame him for not responding. But then ten minutes or so later, his phone buzzes again.

 

* * *

 

**_Even: i’m here_ **

* * *

The sex is more  _ intense  _ the second time around. It’s probably the heightened emotions that came with Isak kicking Even out in the morning only to ask him to run back to him at night. 

Even is just as good, just as devoted and passionate, but he’s not as playful. They don’t laugh and joke around as much. It’s more  _ intense. _ It’s messy _.  _ They  _ fuck.  _ Isak doesn’t have a better word for it. They  _ fuck  _ and it’s wonderful. It’s wonderful because it’s what Isak needs. He stops thinking and overcomplicating things. He lets out all the sounds he feels like letting out and he never feels Even judging him for it. He never does. He just goes faster, harder. Isak can’t even breathe and he doesn’t want to. Not right now.

They kiss too. They hold onto one another and kiss until Isak melts into his own sheets and Even turns him around, and it’s just so  _ wonderful.  _ It’s pure bliss. It really is. Even holds him down and Isak cries out in pleasure. And later, when they’ve both stopped heaving, he wonders why human beings can’t just enjoy the pleasure of sex without throwing emotions and pride and awkward relationship aspirations into the mix. 

He wonders because he cannot not wonder. He cannot not think. His brain is constantly thinking, constantly looking for unanswered questions to ask. The biggest one probably being the one lying on top of him, breathing into the crook of his neck. 

They’re both sweaty and sticky and Isak should ask Even to roll off of him, but he doesn’t want to. The added weight feels so good on Isak’s body. His scent is too good. Everything Even is and does feels so good right now. It’s the afterglow. Isak knows it. But he hugs Even to his chest and they fall asleep wrapped in one another.

.

“I’m gonna go,” Even says when Isak wakes up in the middle of the night tucked warmly under his chin and nuzzled against his bare chest. 

It sounds like a question. It sounds like Even is asking if he can stay. And Isak feels so warm, he can’t bear the thought of a cold empty bed. But then he thinks of the morning and untangles himself from Even’s body. 

“Yeah, you should probably leave.”

Even leaves without a word and Isak mourns his warmth for only a few minutes. Just a few. The guilt of sending him off to brave the snow at such an ungodly hour settles in Isak’s chest a bit later.

* * *

 

**_Isak: sorry for being a dick. didn’t realize it was snowing this hard_ **

**_Even: no worries :) sweet dreams x_ **

**_Isak: night_ **

* * *

It’s Christmas Eve. Isak can’t bear his thoughts so he goes to work. He takes his laptop and walks all the way to the office to clear his mind. He’s not sure why he’s surprised to see that nobody’s there, not a single soul, not even building security. He’s all alone.

Isak works for a couple of hours and actually manages to make some progress on the year-end report he’s expected to hand in after the break. He then nearly jumps when he hears footsteps around the floor.  

_ Who could it be? Even? What if it’s Even? _

It’s not Even. It’s Geir. Isak remembers him saying that he wanted to bring his little nieces to see the office given that they have a pretty decent view over the water and have snacks in the pantry. And judging by the giggles and all the running, Isak is pretty sure those are kids wrecking his floor. He’s mortified because he can’t handle little people, so he hides in his cubicle. 

Isak actually ends up under his desk in a total moment of panic when the footsteps get too close. He’s probably never stooped this low in his life. Magnus would have a field day if he were to see him right now. Isak actually ends up laughing quietly to himself at his ridiculous predicament. 

“I’m glad this is amusing to you as well,” a deep voice that definitely does not belong to Geir makes him bump his head against his desk as he jumps. 

It’s Even. 

And he’s laughing at him, or with him. Isak isn’t sure. All he knows is that he’s so embarrassed, he wishes the floor would crumble this time around and take him down with it. 

“You’re a disaster. Do you know that?” Even chuckles still, but he sounds endeared. Isak can’t even hate him. 

“As if you’ve never hidden under your desk to escape small talk with colleagues and their extended family,” Isak replies as he crawls back from underneath his desk. 

“As long as it’s not me you’re hiding from,” says Even, and it doesn’t really sound like a joke despite the smile on his face. It sounds like a question, like  _ ‘are we going to talk about the fact that we’ve slept together twice so far or not?’ _

“Why are you here?” Isak deflects as he gets back on his feet. “Nobody’s here today.” 

“Had some repairs to take care of. What about you? Why are you here?” 

“Same. Work to do.”

“Hm. I see,” Even mumbles before looking away. 

He looks good, Isak observes rather objectively. He’s not in his gear today. He’s wearing a gray hoodie and dark jeans, and he looks very young and, well,  _ hot.  _

Isak can be dense at times, but he knows that Even is not working today. He’s probably here to see him. It makes Isak feel good about his skills in bed knowing that Even can’t stay away.

“Fancy a beer?” Isak finally speaks.

.

“You’re a shit liar, you know?” Isak laughs as he shoves him gently.

“A shit liar? Me? What? When did I lie?” Even scoffs, his eyes crinkling because he’s laughing too. He hasn’t stopped smiling since they crossed the door of Isak’s apartment. 

“You had some repairs to take care of? Yeah right,” Isak rolls his eyes. “You always pack condoms when you go to work?”

“What? You always need to be prepared! Who knows what holes might end up requiring my services!” 

“You need to stop with this lame joke. My god!” Isak groans, but he’s still smiling. 

“Wait! Do you perhaps think that I went to the office today to see you?!” Even says like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. 

He’s so silly that Isak pulls him into another kiss when he specifically told himself that the previous one was the last. He doesn’t like kissing his hook-ups when they’re not actually sleeping together, but he can’t help it. Even’s lips are so kissable. 

“You can’t stay away,” Isak teases, and he’s now sitting on Even’s lap in his bed, his hands in his hair, Even’s hands on his skin. “Admit it.”

“Never.”

Isak kisses him again until Even rolls them around and pins him down on the bed. He kisses him so deep, Isak’s thoughts melt in his head. He likes this, not being able to think for a while. It’s… liberating, intoxicating.

Even lets go of his wrists on top of his head and cups his face while Isak stares up at him in awe.  _ Gotta love the afterglow.  _

“It’s true,” Even whispers to him, hot and low before kissing him again. “I can’t stay away.” 

“Then don’t.”

Isak wraps his legs around Even’s waist and they kiss for so long that forgets his whereabouts and circumstances. Time and space stop existing. Nothing really matters. How could anything matter with a tongue so deep in your mouth? How could-

“Fuck!” Isak suddenly sits up, horrified.

“What?” Even smiles like he knows. 

“It’s Christmas Eve!” 

“I know,” Even laughs.

“What the hell?” 

“Why? You forgot to go somewhere?” Even asks.

“No. It’s just. I didn’t realize that it was already so late.”

“So what?”

“So what?!” Isak blinks. “Even, it’s Christmas Eve.”

“And?”

“And it’s Christmas Eve! Are you listening? I mean, we don’t even know each other that well and uh, and-” Isak pauses. Is Even a serial killer? Where is his family? Does he have one? Isak knows exactly nothing about this guy, and yet here he is spending Christmas with him. Isak is good in bed, but is he good enough to justify this? Why would anyone deliberately go home with a guy who kicks them out in the middle of a snowy night on Christmas Eve? And-

“And what?” Even interrupts his thoughts. His gaze is warm and intense. 

“Don’t you have anywhere to be?” Isak blurts out, but he doesn’t sound mean. He almost sounds a bit pathetic, actually.

“No. Do you?”

“No,” Isak replies, feeling a bit deflated. He’s always been ashamed of not having plans on Christmas.

“Then we can just chill.”

“But it’s-”

“Is there a law somewhere that says you can’t have sex with a hot guy on Christmas Eve?” Even asks and it makes Isak smile a bit, just a tiny bit. Even notices and smiles back. 

“You’re so full of yourself,” Isak rolls his eyes and tries to shove him a bit, but Even wraps his hands around Isak’s wrists and pins them down on the bed again.

“You like it,” Even whispers as he leans down. 

“I do.”

They kiss until Isak’s mind stops spiraling, until it calms down in his head. They kiss until Isak is whimpering again, until they’re both breathing hard, until they’re silently undressing each other again.

.

“It’s just another night. In most places in the world, tonight is not a big deal. Isn’t it weird?” Even talks to the night sky with a cigarette pressed between his lips while Isak cleans himself up with a towel. 

“Huh?” 

“Tonight. Christmas Eve,” Even says as he blows lazy clouds of smokes. He’s standing shirtless in front of the open window. Isak can’t help but shiver where he’s sitting. “So many people are feeling lonely and alone tonight when it’s just another night. Isn’t it interesting? The importance we give to days? To numbers on a calendar? 24th of December. Christmas. So weird.” 

“It’s not weird. It’s a public holiday so most people don’t have anything to do but think about how lonely they are,” Isak chimes in.

“Still. 2 and 4. There’s something about these two numbers, about the 24th of December, that makes people die inside a bit more. 2 and 4.”

“Do you have something against those two numbers?” Isak laughs because he doesn’t feel like getting into the topic of loneliness during the holidays.

“No, I’m more against the number three if you must know,” Even replies like it was a serious question. 

“Three? Why? What did this number ever do to you?” Isak laughs again while Even smokes.

“It just bothers me. I don’t know.”

“How does a number bother you?” 

“It’s not as good as number two, but it feels better than two. Number three makes it to the podium and is just happy to be there, you know? Whereas number two hates itself because it could have been number one, and number four feels like a failure because it missed the podium by so little.” 

Isak watches Even and waits for him to crack a joke or break character. But Even doesn’t. He just smokes until he finishes his cigarette.

.

“Just imagine that you’re in another part of the world right now. You could be somewhere in the Middle East where Christmas isn’t a thing. Just think about it. Hm?” Even tells Isak after he puts on his shoes and beanie by the front door.

And Isak feels a bit see-through at Even comforting him on Christmas Eve while actually being kicked out. 

“I’ll see you soon?” Even asks tentatively. 

“Uh, yeah. I’ll text you,” Isak lies. 

Even nods and smiles. He tries to kiss Isak and doesn’t even get offended when Isak flinches and pulls away. 

“Merry Christmas, Isak.” Even smiles and it fills Isak with shame. 

“Yeah, you too. See you!”

.

It turns into a vicious but comfortable cycle over the holidays. Isak shuts Even out, forgets about him, doesn’t reply to his texts or even bother to look at them, then summons him when he can’t breathe and needs a body to hold him down and make him forget his own name. 

It’s an unspoken arrangement. Isak stays up one night trying to understand Even’s motives and he eventually settles on: sex. It’s a win-win situation for the both of them. Even must enjoy their sexual chemistry just as much as Isak does. They meet, they sleep together, they cuddle a bit, then part ways like grown-ups. There’s no reason to complicate things, and they don’t.  

Isak might have felt that Even wanted more at the beginning of their sexual relationship, but that feeling fades away as Even becomes a bit more detached. He’s there. He’s here. He smiles, still. But he doesn’t linger. He doesn’t send weird texts pretending to care about Isak’s day. 

In fact, he barely texts at all now, Isak being the one initiating all of their meet-ups. And a few days into their arrangement, the only texts from Even spell the same two words.

**_Even: I’m here._ **

Always,  **_‘I’m here’_ ** . Isak’s cue to buzz him in and open the door and get ready to be swept off his feet. Their texts are rather curt, mostly ‘Come over’ and ‘Busy tonight?’. One would think they don’t talk when they meet. And that’s not true. Because talk, they do.

Even says the most random yet interesting things. He’s a living, breathing enigma blurting out everything and anything that might resemble a half-thought. 

He stands by Isak’s window, shirtless, always shirtless, cigarettes after sex always, and smokes while Isak works on his laptop. He smokes and talks and asks questions that could never have answers, while Isak types mindlessly into his keyboard instead of chiming in. 

Even has a lot of thoughts, Isak realizes. He comments on the concept of elevators, on the jeans fabric, electronic watches, cereals, numbers--the number three, Even hates the number three-- and on the size of the windows of the buildings lining up Isak’s street. 

“You know, in many parts of the world, they always did their best to limit the size of their windows because they couldn’t figure out insulation,” he muses. “Now, the norm for building exterior is mostly glass. Makes you think, you know? Like windows today will never know how hard it was to be a window back then. It’s weird. Don’t you think?”

“Okay, Nietzsche,” Isak teases.  

“I feel like I’m a window from back in the day. You know? Like my existence is just out of necessity cause you need to let light in, and sometimes you might want to open me to get some fresh air. But I’m not really liked, cause I let in the cold during the winter and heat during the summer. But it’s not really my fault that nobody figured out how to make me enforce insulation. You know? I was just ‘born’ that way, I guess? Leaking? Lacking? Incomplete? Does it make sense?”

“Just what exactly are you smoking?” Isak blinks at him, his laptop long forgotten. 

“I’m a small window from a long time ago while you’re one of those tinted floor to ceiling glass windows in luxury buildings or hotels like the Radisson Blu,” Even says. He’s speaking slow and his voice is low like he’s tired. 

“Why am I a floor to ceiling glass window?” 

“Because you’re perfect,” Even says very matter-of-factly and it makes Isak leave his chair to stand next to him. “You’re perfect, unattainable, and everyone can see you from far away. You don’t let anything through you, not the cold, not the heat, just light. Nobody can see what’s going inside you because of the tint, because of the smokescreen you put between the world and yourself. You on the other hand, can see everything. The only other caveat is that it takes a lot to wash you and take care of you.” 

“You’re saying that I stink and that I’m high-maintenance?” Isak teases while trying to ignore everything else that Even said.

He smiles and Even smiles back. 

Even leans in and kisses him. Isak lets him. 

“I’m just saying we’re different,” says Even. “But that we’re the same. We’re just windows. It just happens that you’re everyone’s favorite type of window right now.”

* * *

**_Even: I’m here_ **

* * *

“It’s New Year’s Eve,” Isak states matter-of-factly, a little less freaked out than he was during Christmas.

They’re both half naked and sprawled on his apartment floor, eating leftover pizza and watching reruns of MMA fights. 

“31st of December,” Even shrugs.

“Everyone around the world is celebrating this day,” says Isak. “You can’t use the Christmas logic this time.”

“I can see the hype around New Year’s Eve though. I admit it.”

“You can see the hype around signing up for the gym every time the Earth completes a rotation around the sun?” Isak rolls his eyes while Even laughs. “Nice.”

“What? It’s nice that everybody gets drunk to congratulate the Earth for doing her job. I don’t know. People are weird putting so much emphasis on Midnight kisses though. But the Earth deserves to be celebrated like that. She works so hard.”

“You say the weirdest shit. I swear to God!” Isak complains but he smiles. 

“If anything she should get a Midnight kiss. Don’t you think?” 

.

Isak kicks him out before the countdown because that would be too much. And Even complies without a word, complacent as always. It’s almost maddening. He doesn’t even try to kiss him at the door.

The silence in Isak’s apartment while parties echo all around him--the entire city buzzing with this odd energy that never lasts--is deafening. 

Isak clutches his phone, wondering what to do, wondering if Even would judge him if he were to ask him to come back. It turns out he doesn’t need to, for Even texts him first and adds a word to his usual two.

* * *

 

**_Even: I’m still here btw_ **

**_Even: if you wanna give the Earth a midnight kiss :)_ **

* * *

 

Isak looks out the window and sees Even downstairs in front of his building with two hands shoved deep into his pockets.

He goes downstairs in slippers and a coat that is too thin for tonight’s brutal cold and joins Even and all the drunk people beginning to fill up the streets to watch the fireworks. 

Even smiles like he knew Isak would come down. 

“What?” Isak asks, feeling nervous all of a sudden.

“Nothing, just honored you’d let me be near you at midnight,” Even replies casually with a knowing smile that’s making Isak feel small and transparent. 

“It’s for the Earth.”

“For the Earth, hm.”

The fireworks are loud, so loud. But they don’t feel as loud as Isak’s laughter when Even gets on his hands and knees in the middle of the street with the biggest grin on his face. 

“What are you doing?!”

“Giving the Earth a Midnight Kiss.”

And Even does. He kisses the ground while Isak watches, dumbfounded, questioning reality. The fireworks are loud, but they’re not as loud as the havoc inside of his mind, his ribcage, his being when Even gets back on his feet and backs him up against a wall. 

“Happy  _ ‘the Earth completed another rotation around the sun’ _ day, Isak,” Even whispers, his eyes blue and kind, and Isak is drunk on the feeling of being held on New Year’s Eve by someone this entrancing. “Keen on giving the Earth a Midnight kiss?” 

Isak has never locked lips with a man in the middle of the street. But tonight, he does. And it tastes awful, Even’s lips having picked up dirt from the ground. But it’s so bad, it’s so good. 

They kiss until Isak tastes like dirt, too. 

.

Even has bipolar. Isak finds out a morning later—after they fell asleep in each other’s arms, too exhausted to move—when that ‘Antidote’ song by Travis Scott starts randomly playing in the middle of his living room. 

_ ‘Don’t you open up that window _ __  
_ Don’t you let out that antidote _ _  
_ __ Popping pills is all we know’

Isak laughs when he realizes it’s Even’s alarm. And when he pops his head into the bathroom and finds Even swallowing actual pills, he can’t help but ask. 

“Daily meds. I’m bipolar. That alarm is my reminder.”  

“Oh, okay.”

They leave it at that. Even leaves while Isak gets ready to hop in the shower before making it to work. 

* * *

**_Isak: Free tonite?_ **

**_Even: I’m here_ **

* * *

“To be honest, I didn’t expect you to hit me up tonight,” Even says like it’s a confession. They’re tangled up in Isak’s sheets, still reeling, still heaving.

“Why not?” 

“I don’t know. With my meds yesterday morning and stuff. Figured you’d freak out and dip.”

“Why would I freak out over you taking meds? We’re not business partners or whatever. Your mental state doesn’t affect me. We have sex. That’s it.” The words were supposed to sound comforting, but they sound harsh when they leave Isak’s mouth.

“Sex. That’s it,” Even repeats like he’s giving Isak a chance to take it back.

“Yeah. I don’t care that you have bipolar.”

“Okay.”

* * *

_ \-- I don’t know how many times I broke your heart before it caught up with me. I don’t know -- _

* * *

__

Isak is at his desk the first day after winter break when Even pops up out of nowhere in his work clothes. 

“What are you doing here?!” Isak whisper-shouts while Even tries to kiss his neck.

“Hey, relax,” Even smiles, his hands on Isak’s shoulders.

“Even, I’m at work!”

“I know, I just-”

“Oh, hey you,” Geir interrupts. It’s like he knows. He always knows. “How was your break, Isak? Oh hi!” he turns to greet Even. “I think I’ve seen you before.”

“Hello, I’m Even.”

“Even?” 

“Uh yeah! Eivind here works with the facilities team!” Isak explains hastily, mixing up Even’s name on purpose, his voice strained and his stomach in knots, still wondering if Geir saw Even kiss his neck before he shoved him off. “He, uh, he fixed the ceiling that fell before break and he stopped by today to check that everything looks fine since I haven’t been here since.”

Geir doesn’t look convinced, so Isak turns on his clownish antics. “You know. I think management really heard that I was thinking of requesting that month off to treat my PTSD, so they keep sending Eivind to check on me. Was it you who told them, Geir? I know you like having me around but you need to think about my mental state, Geir!”

Geir laughs, forgetting about Even’s existence, and Isak feels his chest tighten when Even walks away, resigned, like it’s nothing, like Isak pretending not to know his name is nothing.   

.

Even smokes in the same corner around the building every day around the same time. It’s for consistency, Even says. Isak joins him at noon to check if he’s lost his hook-up.

“Sorry about that. Geir is so annoying,” Isak mutters nervously. “Didn’t want him to misunderstand.”

“No worries,” Even shrugs, puffing clouds of smoke and looking up at the sky like he’s in one of those indie movies. “Small windows don’t make sense next to floor to ceiling windows. I get it. You can’t have both on the same building front. It doesn’t look right.”

The window analogy again. Even is talking about them. Isak and Even. Windows. Just windows.

“You can have floor to ceiling windows at the front and small windows at the back or on the sides.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better, Isak,” Even says with a smile Isak doesn’t understand.

“Didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“It’s okay. Used to it.” Even shrugs. 

The admission makes Isak feel a tad bit guilty. “I’ll make it up to you,” he blurts out.  

“Do you always act like that in front of your coworkers?” 

“Act like what?” Isak frowns.

“I don’t know. Like that. Like you’re not the real you. Like you’re not you.” 

Isak remains frozen in place, unable of coming up with words. He feels so see-through, so paper-thin, it’s unbearable. This perfect stranger being able to read him so well is unbearable. 

“What makes you think you know the real me?” 

Even huffs, then brings a hand to Isak’s face, brushing his thumb against his cheek while the wind fills up his bones. 

Even kisses him. Isak is caught off guard and kisses back. 

“I’ve been inside you. I know what you look like when you come. I know you.” 

.

Isak is embarrassed when he realizes that Even is now occupying his thoughts, his words so outrageous that they got under his skin and stayed there. Nothing ever gets under Isak’s skin. No one ever stays under Isak’s skin.  

He decides to text him to stop feeling so jittery and anxious. Even is supposed to be a stress-reliever, not an inducer. He has too much power over him now. Isak has given him power and he needs to take it back. 

.

**_Even: i’m here_ **

.

Isak breaks up with him that night. He says they had a good run and Even lets him go. He’s polite and nice and doesn’t throw a tantrum. He doesn’t even comment on Isak’s cruelty, summoning him, getting all the sex he needs from him, then telling him that he won’t be texting him anymore. 

“I understand,” Even says while looking at the ground and it upsets Isak to see just how little Even values himself. He simply doesn’t at all. 

He wishes Even would throw a tantrum. He wishes he’d tell him to ‘go fuck himself’. But Even doesn’t, and it makes Isak think that Even simply doesn’t care for him that much either. 

Isak holds onto that conviction until they get to the door and Even asks in a broken up voice that will ring through Isak for days. 

“What makes you most ashamed of being seen with me? The fact that I’m a repair guy with no degree or the fact that I’m mentally ill?”

Isak blinks, taken aback and shocked by the insurmountable sadness in Even’s eyes. “What?”

“I’m never good enough. I know this. But I’d really like to know what it is this time. I would really appreciate it if you could tell me what it is about me that makes nobody ever like me back.”

Isak stands there, speechless and hurt by proxy, like he’s taking on Even’s pain, and he hears himself in his words.  _ Why does no one ever like me back. Why am I so alone. Why does no one ever want me? What’s so wrong with me?  _

“This was just a hook-up to me, Even,” is all Isak can come up with. “Nothing more, nothing less. I’m sorry if you got the wrong idea.”

.

Even’s sadness stays with Isak for hours, for days. Isak broke up with him to regain some peace of mind, to make his life simpler, to stop overthinking. But it’s just gotten worse. His heart is in his throat every time he crosses the building entrance, every time someone requests a repair on his floor. He’s constantly on the lookout, wondering if he’ll see Even today, if Even is avoiding him. 

But Even isn’t avoiding him. They run into each other in the crowded pantry where Even is fixing a sink one morning, and Isak swallows his tongue, unsure of what to do. 

Even greets him, however, asks how he’s been, if his plants have been well, if the neighbors are still as loud. 

“Don’t forget to water your plant today,” he says with a smile and Isak’s chest tightens.

* * *

**Two**

Even is hardworking and genuine and real. He’s so real, it makes Isak feel like plastic. He feels so see-through, he can no longer carry a joke. 

Even works every day. They’re refurbishing the other side of the floor, so he’s here every day. He has tangled headphones and bright yellow gloves and dark blue overalls. He’s always smiling, always trying his best, greeting everyone and being charming to everyone.  

Some women from the Events team chat about him in the pantry and Isak overhears with something akin to need at the pit of his stomach. They all talk about his big hands and his broad shoulders and his deep voice. 

“And he’s so nice! Such a turn-on. I wonder if he’s single.”

“With a face like that, something must be wrong with him if he’s single, huh.”

Isak thinks back to Even’s words “nobody ever likes me back” and his chest fills up with a foreign feeling.  _ Such heavy words to just blurt out to the guy you fucked for two weeks over the holidays. Such heavy words.  _

“What’s Even’s deal? The hot Facilities guy,” Ines asks Isak while he’s making himself some coffee. “Geir said you two knew each other. You think you can set us up?” 

_ He’s more than just the hot Facilities guy.  _ Isak wants to say.

“I’d love to, but I think he’s suffering from erectile dysfunction at the moment. Don’t wanna set you up for disappointment,” Isak grins instead. “I care about you, you know.”

The clowning, always the clowning. He doesn’t know how to stop. He doesn’t know how to be real for once.  

Various groups across the company start inviting Even to their happy hours after work, and Even obliges, surprisingly. Isak is only slightly disappointed when he finds him among a group of girls from Marketing, smiling at their lame attempts at getting to know him and answering questions like “where did you grow up?”

Isak learns new things about Even that night. He tries to hold a conversation with Markus from finance, but he gets distracted by Even’s voice, by his tone, by the way he talks and tells stories, meandering but always commanding attention, always making one grab onto every single detail of his never-ending tales. 

Even grew up right here in Oslo and he has a loving family. He had a girlfriend for four years and his biggest heartbreak was losing his dog when he was seventeen. He loves film, and Baz Luhrmann, and 90s rap. He went to Bakka, but never finished high school. He dropped out after he got diagnosed with bipolar and got into craft and repair. 

“I like fixing things. I can’t fix myself, so I like fixing things,” Even says sincerely to a group of drunk idiots who take everything in their lives for granted. 

Isak almost wants to cross the table and put both hands over Even’s mouth to stop him from spilling such personal things to strangers who could ultimately hurt him. Isak doesn’t know why it hurts him to see how open and vulnerable Even allows himself to be. It’s almost as if he’s given up, as if he’s been hurt so many times before that he couldn’t care less anymore. Any question Even gets asked, he answers. 

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No girlfriend and  _ no boyfriend _ at the moment, no,” Even replies and Isak’s limbs go numb. He sees a few of his male coworkers exchange looks as if they’re in on some inside joke, and Isak’s skin prickles with shame. 

“I have nothing against gays, you know. It’s just weird that I peed next to this guy so many times at work and had no clue. Kinda fucked up when you think about it,” some tool from corporate services mumbles drunkenly to Isak and Geir. “Right, Isak?” 

“Uh, yeah. The gays should let us know before we whip out our dicks, huh,” Isak chimes in. It’s a joke. But it hurts him deeply that this is his second nature now, that his first instinct isn’t to tell this guy to  _ go fuck himself, that his dick is too small anyway, that he’s ugly as fuck and that no gay guy would ever want to go near him.  _

It hurts him so deeply, he’s overwhelmed with the urge to cry. He’s drunk.

He’s so drunk, he doesn’t remember getting into a cab. And it’s not until Even nudges him gently that he realizes that he didn’t put himself there. 

“Even-”

“Good thing I know where you live,” Even smiles before opening the door. “Can you stand?” 

Isak nods but accepts Even’s help getting on his feet anyway. “Did the others see you put me in a cab?” 

Even stares at Isak, looking hurt, deeply hurt. “No. I followed you outside for a couple blocks then hailed us a cab. Don’t worry.” 

Isak holds onto him because everything is spinning. Even holds him up with one arm then shifts around to pay the cab driver. 

“Use my card,” Isak mumbles. “‘S in my pocket.”

“I don’t make as much as you but I can pay for a cab ride, Isak.”

Isak wants to dig up a hole and disappear into it. Everything he says manages to somehow offend Even.

“Why do you tell people such personal things?” he asks because he can’t stop thinking about Even’s tales and stories from the bar.

“Because they asked,” Even replies.

“You could lie.”

“Why would I?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m way past the phase of being ashamed of myself, Isak.”

_ How do I get past it?!  _ Isak wants to ask, but he keeps his lips sealed. 

“Get some rest, okay?” 

“I miss you,” Isak blurts out, and Even smiles like an adult smiles at a ridiculous child.

“You miss the sex.” 

“And you.” 

“When I’m inside you.” Even smiles. 

“Fuck you.” Isak smiles back. 

“Oh, but we don’t do that anymore.” 

They smile to one another and Isak lets his hand linger on Even’s chest for a moment longer.

“Have a good night, Isak.”

.

The next day, Isak is nursing the worst hangover at his desk while going through Excel sheets and he’s left stunned when Even brings coffee, pastry, and aspirin to his cubicle. 

“What is this?”

“Figured you could use these. You had a lot to drink last night,” Even smiles then walks away. 

.

Isak joins Even at his smoking spot and Even doesn’t even flinch.

“Feeling better?”

“No, still feel like shit,” Isak admits.

“You should go home.”

“I have too much shit to do.”

“You work too hard,” says Even.

“I need to. It’s almost the end of the quarter.” 

“You don’t need to do anything.”

Isak looks up and finds Even staring off into the distance. He looks so attractive smoking like this, burning his lungs away. 

“Thanks for taking me home last night,” says Isak.

“You’re welcome.” 

“You’re a really good guy.”

“I’m just a hopeless fool,” Even shrugs. 

“Whatever you want to call it.”

Isak stands by Even’s side in total silence. It’s not awkward. It’s never awkward. It’s comfortable, almost. 

“You know in life, there’s hopeless fools and regular people,” Even muses, his cheeks hollowing then filling up again as he smokes. 

“Like the small windows and the floor to ceiling windows?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s a hopeless fool?” Isak asks.

“A person like me, a person who wants love and attention. A person who notices but who is never noticed.”

“You? Never noticed? Have you looked at yourself?” Isak rolls his eyes.

“People who just want to fuck me don’t count.”

“Then what does a 'noticer' notice?” 

“I don’t know. Smiles? Eyes? A noticer, for example, takes the tram and fantasizes about having a love story with a stranger sitting opposite of them. A noticer notices new faces in the workplace and at their regular coffee shop and hopes they can become friends. A noticer looks at their delivery guy’s face and wants to be remembered by them. A noticer is a person on standby waiting for someone special to enter their life, hyper-aware of everything and everyone. A noticer is a pathetic fuck wishing for a human connection with anyone, anywhere, basically.” 

Isak hums. “Everyone is a noticer at some point then,” he says, overwhelmed by how he agrees with Even’s rambling. He was once a noticer. “Everyone is a noticer until reality hits and that weird craving for a connection takes second place to self-preservation.” 

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop being a noticer though. I think self-preservation isn’t for me. I can’t control it.” 

“One day you’ll shut down,” Isak reassures him. This is the weirdest yet most honest conversation he’s ever had. 

“Is that what happened to you?”

Isak doesn’t answer. He just grabs the cigarette from Even’s fingers and brings it to his own mouth. It’s like they’re kissing. Isak misses kissing him. He takes another long drag until his throat hurts.

“I noticed you, you know?” says Even. 

“That night the ceiling fell?”

“No, when you first joined.”   

“That was over a year ago,” Isak blinks.

“I know,” Even smiles. “I’m a noticer. I told you.” 

“You never talked to me.”

“You never spared me a glance.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s my fault. I was too late,” says Even.

“What are you talking about?” 

“If I had met you before you shut down, maybe you would have given me a shot. Maybe you would have noticed me, too.”

Isak doesn’t realize how close they’re standing, how thick the air has gotten between them, how loud his heartbeat is until Even utters the words. 

Even wants love. Isak can see it in his eyes. 

Isak can’t help him with that.

.

Their friendship is odd but natural. Isak has never been friends with anyone he’s slept with, ever. This is new territory. But it’s comfortable. Isak doesn’t want a relationship and Even wants epic soul-shattering romance. They’re not compatible. But it doesn’t mean they can’t suffer miserably together during work hours. 

They have lunch together, Isak having grown tired of entertaining the same douchebags from work every day. They meet up for coffee and talk about the news. They take breaks for Even to smoke and for Isak to breathe. And sometimes they just stand next to each other, not talking, not saying a word. Just standing in comfortable silence. 

“This guy from Private Equity asked me out for drinks,” Even says while Isak scrolls through his phone, reading emails even while away from his desk. 

“Oh,” Isak blinks, unsure what to do with this piece of information. “Which guy?” 

“Jakob? Short black hair. Forgot his last name.”

Isak knows who Even is talking about. He’s a few years his senior and he has a very impressive track record. Isak all but admires him. He had no idea he was into guys. For some reason, his hands tighten into fists under the table.

“Interesting,” Isak looks away. “So you’re gonna go?” 

“Yeah. It’s tonight.”

“Oh. Okay.” 

“Does it bother you?” Even asks like he’s hoping it might.

“No, why would it?” 

“No reason.”

.

“I heard Even is dating Jakob from PE. Isn’t it crazy?”

“I know Even is hot, but for an associate to date the equivalent of a janitor is weird in my opinion. You think it’s a sex thing? Gay guys have kinky sex lives after all. I can see that.”

Isak’s insides are crawling as he overhears the nonsense from the pantry. He wants to barge in there and scream in the girls’ faces. What’s wrong with janitors? What’s wrong with repairmen? He wants to throw things around and tell them that Jakob could live a thousand lifetimes and not measure up to Even. He’s so angry that he doesn’t notice them coming out.

“Shit, Isak. Sorry. I know you’re friends with Even. Hope you don’t tell him what you just heard. Didn’t mean it like that.”

Isak smiles and reassures them that he won’t. 

.

“How was it?” Isak asks at lunch.

“Decent,” Even shrugs.

“Decent? He’s not well-endowed?”

Even throws a lettuce at him while Isak laughs.

“I think you were right about the self-preservation thing,” says Even.

“What do you mean?”

“I couldn’t give it my all. It’s like I was scared of getting hurt.”

Isak watches Even with tightness in his chest. Even is implying that Isak hurt him beyond repair, that because of him he can’t trust anyone new. 

“But I’ll try,” Even smiles. “He held my hand this morning at work. It made me feel good.” 

_ I want to hold your hand, too.  _

“That’s nice. He sounds nice.”

.

Even doesn’t come to work for the following three weeks, and Isak goes from missing having him around to being worried sick. He gives in and asks Even’s manager, and his heart breaks a little when he learns that Even is feeling down, that he’s taking a break because he’s feeling too depressed. 

It affects him so deeply that he cannot concentrate on work. He cannot. It occurs to him then that he’s never seen Even without that blinding smile on his face, that he’s never asked him about the highs and lows and about his bipolar.  _ “Because they asked.” _

Isak thinks about paying him a visit but he feels like he doesn’t have the right. He’s never shown interest in his mental state. Visiting him when he’s at his lowest feels cruel. So he doesn’t. He waits.

Even looks tired when he gets back to work. He looks like he’s lost some weight too. But he smiles. He tries and he smiles. And Isak wants to embrace him. 

“I missed you,” Isak tells him at their spot. Even isn’t smoking. They’re sipping on water.  

“You missed the sex,” Even replies with a grin, and it’s a joke. It’s their joke. Isak smiles.

“Missed your weird ramblings at lunch. I was quite bored without you.” 

“You should have spent some time in my head these past few weeks then. You would have been entertained, I’m sure.“

Even always says the saddest things with a smile on his face. No one has ever made him feel so indecent in his life. Isak feels like a terrible person every time Even so much as blinks. 

“I once said that I don’t care that you have bipolar and that was very cruel of me,” Isak says, his hands in fists under the table as it’s taking him everything to be real and transparent right now. He speaks and watches Even’s face fall. “I do care about your mental state. I’m sorry I keep saying stupid shit that upsets you.” 

Even smiles. “Thanks.”

Isak will take that.

“Feeling better?”

“My thoughts aren’t as jumbled and as fucked. So you could say that.” 

“You can talk to me if you want,” Isak blurts out with knots in his stomach. 

“Talk to you?”

“About what’s on your mind. About your thoughts. The windows and the Earth midnight kisses and the people in the movies. I can listen.”

“I don’t want to burden you.”

“You won’t,” Isak promises. “You can talk to me about doors too, if you want. Door and knobs and carpets. I’m sure you have interesting thoughts on carpets.”

Even laughs. It’s beautiful. Heartwarming. 

“I do have thoughts on doors. It must be your lucky day.” 

“I’m all ears,” Isak teases. “Come on. What kind of door am I? I bet I’m a supermarket sliding door. A tinted glass one. The ones that always have the  _ “please use other door” _ sign on them cause they never work.”

“Shut up,” Even laughs, shoving him a bit. “You’re not a door.”

“No?”

“No. I don’t know. It’s not the metaphor I was going for.”

“Which one is it then? I don’t remind you of things anymore?” The question is innocent. It’s banter. It’s nothing. But Isak feels his chest tighten, awaiting the answer.  _ Am I no longer on your mind?  _ This is what Isak wanted. Why does it scare him that Even no longer thinks about him? Why does it wound him?

“Everything reminds me of you.”

Isak cannot really breathe, or move, or function. He feels like the smokescreen he has up at all times might crumble. 

“The big door at the entrance of our building reminds me of you,” says Even. “Not the glass door one. No, the one by the reception where my desk is. I watched you cross that door so many times before we actually met. Always hoping that one day you might look in my direction and notice me back. Every time I heard someone scan their badge, my neck would snap like I’m a dog waiting for his owner to come home. I’d look up, so happy and so nervous and so excited every time I heard that beep. I loved and hated that beep. Whatever mood I was in, I always had the same reaction to that beep. I always hoped it was you even when I told myself not to think about you. And I was always crushed when it wasn’t you. Doors are just. I love doors. I hate doors. I don’t know what I’m saying. But you’re not a door. I didn’t just want to go through you or cross you or take you to enter somewhere else. I just wanted to see you. I don’t know. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

Isak doesn’t know want to say. He just stares at Even while the wind brushes his hair over his face, over his eyes, over his screaming thoughts. What is Even saying? Why does he long to see Isak when he’s with Jakob? What is he saying?

“But that was before,” says Even, shutting it all down. “It was before.”  

.

Even gets busy. He works hard and spends his breaks with Jakob now while Isak withers inside. He can’t put a finger on what this feeling is, on why it bothers him so much that Even is with Jakob, on why he feels so alone, even more so than usual. Isak has no idea. But it’s starting to hurt. 

He tries hooking up with random people. But while it takes his mind off of things in the heat of the moment, he goes back to thinking about Even almost immediately. 

He thinks about him. He longs for him in the most irrational of ways. Every time Even walks by his desk, Isak’s heart drops and his mind spirals out of control. Seeing him almost becomes a necessity. 

He does the silliest things, the most pathetic and out of character things. He waits for Even in his smoking spot for nearly thirty minutes at a time in the freezing cold. He waits with an umbrella when it rains as he knows Even doesn’t carry one. He brings up small meaningless annoyances around the floor and gets people to log maintenance requests for them so he can chat with Even for a second and make him smile with a silly joke. He pulls on a curtain too hard. He rolls up the carpet. He breaks the Nespresso machine and waits for Ines to notice. 

“It’s like something is deliberately breaking stuff on your floor,” Even tells him and Isak watches him helplessly with a bottomless whirlpool starting inside of him. 

“It’s good you’re always here to fix things,” says Isak, feeling guilt twist his insides.

“It’s good things keep breaking. Otherwise, I’d be out of a job.” 

.

Even gets promoted to office coordinator so he no longer has to run errands and fix little things anymore. He can tell other people to do that on his behalf. This is probably for the best. Isak obsessively and meticulously destroying small things around the floor just to see him is a clear sign of a meltdown. It couldn’t have kept going.

Even gets busier and Isak is happy for him, but worried all the same because of people running their mouths around the office. Some admins say that Jakob was behind his new title, and Isak wants to roll his eyes and call them stupid, for private equity has absolutely no say in Facilities’ promotions.

They go out to celebrate and Even sits there with a sheepish grin and a light flush coloring his face. He looks unsure, eyes flicking from one person to the next, doing his best to show appreciation, like he can’t believe people would want to go out to celebrate his achievements. 

Even’s humility makes Isak’s heart melt. Isak actually melts watching him. And he’s so drunk, he cannot think. He wants to kiss him. He wants him back. But he can’t. Jakob is right there by Even’s side, smiling and showering him with the affection he deserves, the affection Isak wouldn’t give him. His heart hurts. It hurts so much.

“Isak, are you okay?” Even checks on him when he makes it back to the bar. And he can’t do this to him. He can’t ruin Even’s night because he wants what he can no longer have.

“Yeah. I’m just really proud of you. You know?”

Even’s face flushes and Isak realizes that he’s never told him, that he’s never given him any type of validation. Even’s self-esteem is so low despite his towering frame and his confident looks. It hurts to even think about it, how little Even loves himself, how shocked he is every time someone compliments him.

“Thank you,” Even smiles and his eyes sparkle. 

“Come on. Next round is on me!” Isak smiles back then pulls himself together. “Let’s do a toast!”

.

They do several toasts. Or maybe Isak does more than the rest of them. Maybe he takes shots. He’s not sure. Some girl ends up on his lap. And he can’t even push her away. He can’t even tell her that he doesn’t want this. How can he? What will everyone say? He hates himself, the shame crippling him and making his stomach twist, and twist, and twist. He knows Even is watching. He knows. 

Some guy reminds Isak how lucky he is being “a pussy magnet”, and Isak just smiles and nods like he agrees. He doesn’t agree. He hates everything. 

The feeling of shame and guilt only get worse when he comes to, when Even pokes him in shoulder and says  **_‘we’re here’._ ** Isak ruined his drinks and made Even take him home, yet again. It’s so embarrassing. It’s so incredibly embarrassing.

“I’m so unhappy,” Isak admits. He just blurts it out the way Even does with his feelings. He just lets it all out, like he’s lacking, like he’s leaking. “I’m so fucking unhappy, Even.” 

He cries that night. Isak can’t recall the last time he’s cried. 

He doesn’t cry in front of Even. No. That would be too much to lay on him. 

Isak calls Eskild in tears and cannot believe it when he actually sees him at his door. 

“I’m so fucking sorry, Eskild. For everything. I’m so sorry.” 

.

Eskild sleeps on the couch and Isak wakes up with the worst hangover and the heaviest heart. They sit down for coffee and Isak casually starts talking while Eskild watches him meticulously. 

Isak talks about his first real relationship, if one could call that real. He tells him about the first man who broke his heart. It’s a cliche story, really. Young and lost seventeen year old boy trying to get a taste of what he craves, a taste of freedom, a taste of  _ male, _ and falling prey to an older man. It’s the least original story. The man wasn’t even horrible. He wasn’t even attractive. He just took things too fast. He just took too much and gave Isak too little. Isak was in love, or at least with the idea of being wanted, desired, needed, of being looked at like that. He learned things too fast. Everything happened so fast, Isak didn’t even have time to realize that it was all temporary until he got dumped for the next young and fresh thing. He felt rotten. Used. Expired. Worn out. Damaged goods. 

His mother died not too long after that. Isak couldn’t stand the sight or mention of his father. Lea moved on with her life. And Isak had nobody. So he shut down and focused on studying. Just work and studying and sex. Pure filthy sex. No attachments involved. 

He became a tinted floor to ceiling window. 

Isak has never said these things out loud. He’s never even written them down. He’s avoided thinking about them for the longest time. His distaste for and distrust in humans and men in particular has lived under his skin since then, however. Suffocating him, crushing him. 

“I like someone,” Isak says when he finishes telling Eskild the pathetic story he’s been wanting to hear during all those years they lived together. Eskild is holding his hand over his kitchen table. It feels nice.

“That’s so nice, Isak,” Eskild says and he has tears in his eyes. Isak can’t believe him. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Yeah. But he’s with someone else now.”

* * *

**Three**

It’s almost December and Isak’s feeling grow tenfold. It’s almost been a year since he got to taste Even for the first time. A year. Everything reminds him of what they briefly had. The file cabinet he knocked over when trying to kiss Even for the first time, the fire extinguisher he bumped his head against while they were making out, the stairs to his apartment where they tripped and fell once because they were too caught up kissing, the tiles on the ceiling, the carpet, the windows, the doors. Everything. 

Everything is heightened. Isak is paper-thin. Isak is worn-out. 

Isak gets Even for Secret Santa as if things aren’t awful enough, as if smiling to Even’s face and pretending he’s fine isn’t awful enough. 

“I got Jakob,” Even sighs, unaware of the turmoil within Isak when they meet in the pantry. And he looks weary. 

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“No, Isak. It isn’t.”

Ines informs Isak that Even and Jakob are having a fight after he stands there looking confused. And Isak cracks a joke he doesn’t even bother remembering before walking away. 

.

“Are you bringing anyone to the Holiday party?” Geir asks.

“No. You know me. Free as a bird, always,” Isak winks before excusing himself. 

Everyone has been stopping by today. They’ve just announced promotions and Isak finally got his. He’s an associate now. No one has ever made associate this fast, not even Jakob. He should be proud, really. But he isn’t. The brief joy lasts a few minutes at most, before gloom settles within him again.  _ Is this what I’ve been working toward this past year? A promotion? Who the fuck cares?  _

Yes, who cares? Isak is still lonely and alone during the holidays. He still has nobody to complain about his long days to. He still has no one to play with his hair and do mundane things like watch a documentary on tidying up with on Netflix. Isak has nobody. Nobody. Nobody. Nobody. Isak is alone and he has nobody. His heart is on fire. His brain is lighting up. He has nothing and he has nobody. 

“Congratulations,” Even startles him mid-panic attack in his cubicle. And Isak pulls himself together right away. 

“Hi Even,” Isak manages to smile. “Thank you.”

“I knew you would get it. You’re so smart. Nobody deserves this more than you.”

“Thank you,” Isak flushes instantly, Even’s smile calming the torrents in his mind, the havoc in his heart. He’s so kind. 

“Here, I got you something,” he says as he hands him a small and neatly wrapped rectangular box.

It’s a pen. A fancy executive fountain pen. Everyone who’s made associate or above has one of these pens. Isak is speechless. 

“Even, what?! This is so expensive!”

“Wanted to get you your first pretentious pen,” Even shrugs, his voice strained. “Didn’t wanna be your third, or something like that. You like it?”

“Even, I-”

“It has your initials on it,” Even smiles.  

Who gets their ex-dick appointment a custom made fountain pen as a congratulatory gift for a promotion? Isak doesn’t know what to say. He just doesn’t. 

“See you at the Holiday party?” Even asks and he looks nervous and jittery like it’s taken him all the courage in the world to give Isak the present.

“Yeah, uh, yeah.”

.

“He fucking loves you!” Eskild shouts, swooning in his chair. “He loves you. Oh my god, Isak! That’s so fucking sweet of him!”

“He has a boyfriend,” Isak sighs, defeated. “He doesn’t love me.”

“You said they’re fighting,” Jonas comments nonchalantly. 

“Since when are you even listening?” Isak groans. “And why are you all here?”

“To celebrate your promotion,” Eva chimes in. “But since you only wanna talk about this man of yours, we can do that too.”

“Oh piss off. Yeah?”

“That’s ‘thank you’ in Isak language,” says Linn.

“It’s so good to have your usual grumpy self back,” says Eskild. “All that finance bro attitude was keeping me up at night, really. Missed you baby gay.”

“Leave me alone! I am not a baby!”

Isak throws a tantrum, but he’s grateful. He hasn’t seen his friends in ages. He hasn’t even invited them to his new apartment before. And while his heart still hurts, it hurts a little less with his chosen family around.

* * *

**Now**

Isak is on his third drink.

_ Three. Even hates the number three. _

It’s the holiday party. And Isak is looking at the door, listening to the door, living for the door. He’s waiting for Even. Even who got him a pen. Even who might love him. Isak is waiting for Even and he can’t focus on anything else by the bell that rings every time someones goes through the door. 

_ Is Even actually coming tonight? _

Jakob is nowhere to be seen. Perhaps they made up. Perhaps they got back together right before the party and they’re making sweet love right now while Isak waits by the door like a hopeless fool, like a noticer, like a small window that nobody loves. 

Isak feels pathetic and the small box in his pocket is burning a hole through his blazer. 

He’s about to leave when Even walks in.

Even. 

He looks wonderful. He’s wearing a green suit. Who wears green suits? And a bow-tie? Who is he? Why is he like this? And his hair. Isak needs another drink. He needs another one right now. Instead, he stays in his spot behind the fake plastic Christmas tree. He stays there, useless and pointless, like dirty dishes in the sink. He doesn’t know what to do. 

So he watches him. He watches Even from afar. He watches him greet everyone, even the slightly homophobic married men from the sixth floor, even the women who wouldn’t stop gossiping about him and his mental issues, even the people who say that he was unfairly promoted. Even gives everyone the time of day, smiling, shaking hands, laughing at what Isak suspects is a tasteless joke. Even shines. He just shines, even those who claim to hate him secretly love him. They love him so much. What’s there not to love. Even who fixes everything because he cannot fix himself.

Isak watches him while sipping on water. He’s decided to sober up. He doesn’t want to cause a scene. He doesn’t want Even taking him home tonight. He doesn’t want to be pathetic tonight. Isak watches him. He watches him shine. He watches him until he starts noticing Even turning around abruptly every time the door swings open. He turns around, jumping in his seat a little, looking startled, hopeful, then disappointed. The dance of the hopeless fool. The endless dance of the hopelessly in love. 

Isak watches him and hears his own heart break, watching him, him, Even, the man he loves, wait for someone else, watch the door for someone else, do the hopeless fool dance for someone else.

Isak watches Even wait for Jakob to join the party. 

It hurts. But it’s okay. It’s alright. He’s too late, but it’s alright, isn’t it? Even longs for someone else now and that’s fine. It has to be.

Isak smiles then walks to Even’s table to finally greet him. 

“Hey you!” he taps him on the shoulder.

Isak lost him. And it’s okay. Because Even is worth losing. At least, he’ll have him forever now.

. 

They sit for dinner. Isak across from Even, Trygve on his left, Geir on his right. Even the seating arrangement is cruel. Isn’t it? Isak should have left earlier. 

“Did everyone get their Secret Santa gifts already?” Ines asks.

“Even hasn’t yet,” some random person around the table speaks. 

Geir glares at Isak because he knew Isak drew Even’s name. Geir takes Secret Santa very seriously. 

“Isak, I know you’re busy getting promoted, but you could have taken two minutes to get Even something.”

People laugh. Even laughs too, then when Isak locks eyes with him, he mouths something akin to “don’t worry about it”. 

_ ‘Don’t worry about it. I understand. It’s fine. Small windows can’t stand next to floor to ceiling windows. I understand. Nobody ever likes me back. I’m used to it. It’s okay. No worries.’ _

It’s not okay. Why is Even still doing this? Why is he still letting Isak hurt him like this?

“Isak is so busy working his way to the top, he’ll probably never get a girlfriend.”

_ Laughter.  _

“The day Isak brings a plus-one to a company event is the day our office will crumble for real.” 

_ Laughter.  _

“Have you ever fallen in love, Isak? Have you ever loved a girl? I genuinely wonder. I actually could never picture you in a relationship now that we mention it.”

_ Laughter.  _

“Maybe he doesn’t need to be in one. You see how all the girls keep throwing themselves at him?” 

_ Laughter.  _

“He’s funny. You’re funny, Isak. That’s why. Girls love that shit.”

“Stop generalizing, Trygve!”

“As if you didn’t have a crush on Isak when he first started, Ines.” 

_ Laughter.  _

“Don’t listen to them, Isak. Relationships are overrated. I’m on my second divorce. I know what I’m talking about. Just keep doing you.” 

_ Laughter. Laughter. Laughter.  _

Isak has been cracking jokes ever since he started this job. No wonder everyone thinks he is one. No wonder everyone thinks it’s okay to just talk about his personal life like this. Like he’s nothing. 

And Even looks so conflicted, so heartbroken, so sad for him. Isak understands everything now. Eskild’s words, and Even’s worry, and his own demons. Isak understands everything now.

“The day Isak finally falls for someone is the day I quit this fuck ass job. I swear to god, guys!”

Isak takes out the blue box from his large pocket and puts it in front of Even. The table goes awfully quiet.

“What is this?” Trygve exclaims. “You got Even a secret Santa gift after all?”

“Even,” Isak speaks, his eyes on Even’s, his focus on Even. No one else matters anymore. And Even is staring back just as intensely, breathing just as hard like he knows what Isak is about to say. 

“Even. I love you,” he says, his voice breaking. He laughs because he can’t believe he’s said it. “Fuck.” 

Other people chuckle too, though nervously, as if they don’t know whether Isak is joking or not. They probably think he is.

“Even, I’m in love with you,” Isak says and this time he smiles. He smiles because Even makes him want to smile. It’s true. He loves him. “I was thinking the other night about things I don’t love about you, and I couldn’t find anything. Well except maybe your tendency to be nice to everyone, even to these fucking homophobic assholes we go to work with every day. But even that I love about you.”

Isak pauses and he looks up, just for a second, just to see if this is embarrassing Even, if he should stop. Even looks shaken, but he looks like he did the day Isak told him he’s proud of him, like he can’t believe it. Like no one has ever told him how lovable and wonderful he is. Isak continues.

“Do you know how much I love you?” Isak chuckles. “I broke so many things around the floor just hoping to see you. You turned me into a thirteen year old with a crush, you know? I even broke the Nespresso machine. You know how much I love that damn Nespresso machine. But it was worth it because you came to my floor and I got to talk to you, to see you smile, to make you laugh. I love making you laugh. I waited every day in the cold after lunch just to have a chance to listen to you talk during your smoke break. I waited with an umbrella countless times hoping to share mine with you. I wanted to take the tram with you, to walk home with you, to watch pretentious indie films with you. I wanted to know about your day. I wanted to listen to you complain about things that frustrate you. I wanted to do everything with you. I still do. I love the way you unbutton shirts from the bottom up. I love the way you know you’re irresistible but still get nervous when it matters. I love that your alarm to take your pills is that ‘popping pills is all we know’ song. I love that you hate the number three with a passion. I love that you give Earth a midnight kiss on New Year’s and that you pay attention to windows and doors. I love that you’re so honest about how you feel. I love that you’re smart and so hardworking. I love that you’re so kind. I love that you take me home when I’m drunk. I love that you’re not ashamed of who you are. I love it. I love you. I’m in love with you. I love you so much, you know? I broke the world for us, you know? And I would do it again. I would. I swear I would. Because it would be worth it. Because I love you, Even. So much.  

And I know you don’t want me. I know this. I know that you watch doors for someone else now. I know that it’s not me you think of when the someone swipes their badge now. I know it and it’s fine. It’s okay, even if most nights I would kill to get another text from you, another  **“I’m here”,** those two words being my favorite words. For the longest time. My favorite text. But it’s okay. It's okay because you're my friend. Because your friendship alone is enough for me. It's okay. I just wanted you to know how much I love you. How happy and loved you’ve made me feel. And how much you’re loved. I just wanted you to know.”

.

Isak walks away before he can process Even’s reaction. Before people wreak havoc after his out of character confession. He storms out of the restaurant and leaves his heart on the table. He just leaves it there. His ridiculous Secret Santa gift. A globe. His little Earth globe decoration made out of glass. The one they knocked down the first time they made love in his apartment. It’s broken, but it’s still beautiful. It’s theirs. 

_ I broke the world for us. _

Isak doesn’t cry until he gets to his apartment. And it’s not out of sadness. It’s out of relief. Out of relief and out of love. He feels so free. He might have left his heart on the table, but at least he’s no longer trapped. He feels okay. He feels alright. 

He’s lost the love of his life. But it’s okay. Maybe they’ll meet in another one. Maybe they’ll have better luck in another one, in another universe, in another globe. Maybe they meet before he shuts down. Maybe when they’re in high school. Maybe a bit later. Maybe their paths cross earlier. Maybe. He’s lost him now but it’s okay. As long as Even is happy. 

It’s okay. 

It’s fine. 

Isak looks at his most prized possession. At Even’s gift. At the pen Even got his initials carved into. He looks at it and thinks about how he’ll never use it. How he never wants it to run out of ink. Ever. 

He looks at it then realizes he hasn’t even opened the box, that he hasn’t even looked at the pen, that he hasn’t even-

Isak hasn’t even noticed the little folded paper inside the box.

* * *

 

> _ I’m a hopeless fool for you, still.  _ __  
>  _ In case you’ve had a change of heart _ __  
>  _ about loving a small lacking leaking window  _ __  
>  __ nobody ever loves in return.  
>  _  
>  _ _ I’ll be watching the door at the holiday party _ _  
>  _ __ for you. 
> 
> _ Proud of you. Always. _
> 
> __ -Even _ _

 

* * *

**Even (22:44): i’m here**

 

**Author's Note:**

> sorry this isn't bfyt. i've had this in my drafts since the ceiling fell apart over our desks at work (actually happened, haha). are you guys still here? do you still read stories about these two? i miss them so much. will it ever get easier?
> 
> i wrote this some time ago but i wasn't v proud of it so i didn't post it. anyway hope you liked it <3.  
> ily bbs thank you for all your comments and msgs. love u and happy new year <3


End file.
